


burning water

by erintoknow



Series: Fallen Hero Sidestep AU Fanfics [14]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Cooking, F/F, Never admit weakness crew, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: What's that burning smell in the kitchen?oh no
Relationships: Sidestep/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Series: Fallen Hero Sidestep AU Fanfics [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433116
Kudos: 4





	burning water

**Author's Note:**

> Zia loaned by [Swan](https://ratkingkisses.tumblr.com)
> 
> a quick follow up blurb to this: [[tell me why](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20612159)]

It’s the smoke that Ariadne notices, seconds before the fire alarm goes off. Curses she jumps off the bed to her feet, letting the book drop to the floor. Rushing out of the bedroom all moment is brought to a sudden, sharp stop by the figure standing in the kitchen.

Zia glares angrily at the pot of pasta on the stove top, hands on her hips. The noodles have been haphazardly dumped into an empty pot and one end is on fire. Ariadne puts a hand over her face. It’s too late in the day for the Zia hour. Also too early. Just really, any time is a bad time for the Zia hour.

The other woman catches sight of her, and the upset look on her face dissolves, replaces with a cool confidence. Or at least, the pretension of such. “Ah, Ari, I see my alarm clock worked.” She has to raise her voice over the blaring of the alarm.

Ariadne rolls her eyes. “Zia, put that out.” She reaches to grab the burning noodles and Ariadne lunges forward, shoving her out of the way. “N–n-not with your hand, oh my god!” Yep, no water in the pot. Ariadne sighs, turning off the stove. Turning the water on in the sink she carefully lights up the pot of burning pasta and dumps it into the running water. “What the fuck were you doing?”

She huffs, crossing her arms. “That’s hardly any way to talk to the woman who has slaved over your recovery.”

“What–” Ariadne’s face crinkles in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. “I’ve just been laying on the bed all day while you do your…” she flails her free hand while reaching over to turn the water off in the sink. “Your Zia… thing. Whatever that is.”

Zia’s face lights up at that, a smirk on her face. “I have been looking into our next project together. There’s a–”

“Stop.” Ariadne shoves a finger in her face. “My head still hurts like hell. I am not doing anything. And…” She looks at the wreck in the sink, sighing. “This isn’t helping.”

“Don’t be ungrateful, my little handmaiden.”

“Little…?” Ariadne huffs, straightening her back. “I’m taller than you are! By like, almost three inches!”

Zia refuses to budge. “You're short in spirit.”

“In spirit…?” Ariadne closes her eyes, putting her hands to her temples. Takes a breath, holds it, lets it out. “Okay. Let’s back up here. What on earth is this?”

The alarm finally, mercifully stops.

Zia raps her fingers against the side of her face, chin in her hand as she surveys the damage. “Well, the box said to boil a pot of water first. But that was a stupid waste of time seeing as it _also_ said to dump all the water in the sink at the end. So I figured I’d just skip that part and save some time.”

“Zia.”

“Yes dear?”

“Don’t call me that.” Ariadne sighs. “Do you see the point of the water now?”

The woman frowns, drumming her fingers against the side of her face. A look of intense concentration. “So you can immediately put out the fire before the fire alarm goes off?”

“No.”

“Well then clearly the instructions are at fault!” Zia turns away sharply, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “They were inadequate to the task.”

“Zia,” Ariadne walks after her as Zia storms out of the kitchen. “Do you not know how to cook?”

She huffs, not turning around as she stares out the penthouse window at the city below. “Of _course_ I know how to cook, sweetheart. What kind of person doesn’t know how to cook?”

“W–well, the escaped government experiment kind.”

She laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Children know how to cook, _I_ know how to cook.”

“Name _one_ recipe you know how to–to–to do.”

“Easy.” She snaps her fingers. “You take the chicken tenders out of the freezer and put them on a plate with a paper towel. And then you stick them in the microwave for three minutes.”

“Oh Zia…” Ariadne has to bite her lip to stop from laughing. “That hurts me in my soul.” She puts a hand on Zia’s shoulder, tentative at first, unsure if Zia’s going to shrug her off. “Did you have any m–more boxes of pasta?”

“Oh…” She turns her head, avoiding looking at Ariadne. “I bought all of them.”

“…all of them.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind was your preference.”

Ariadne glances out the window. “Okay. We can… um, work with that. I can teach you the basics, I guess.”

Zia relaxes her shoulders, glances over to Ariadne, a small smirk on her lips. “I suppose I can let you assist me.”

“…assist you? Zia–”

“Oh very well, I promote you to sous chef.” Turning back towards the kitchen, Zia glances back over her shoulder. “Well, come on handmaiden.”

Ariadne groans, throwing her hands up in the air. “I t–t–told you to stop calling me that! And – and how do you know what a sous chef is?”

Zia doesn’t even look back, a lazy hand in the air. “That little movie with the rats.”

Back in the kitchen they spend a few minutes cleaning up the last mess. Toweling her hands off, Ariadne rummages through the cupboards. “For someone that doesn’t cook, you have uh– a pretty well stocked kitchen.”

“Excuse yourself, I cook all the time.”

Ariadne rolls her eyes. “Anyway,” She pulls out a bigger pot and sticks it under the faucet. “You almost had it. Pasta is d–dead easy to do, honestly. You just – just shot yourself in the foot with your need to be clever all the time.”

Zia frowns, glaring at Ariadne from the middle of the kitchen. “I don’t _need_ to be clever. I _am_ clever.”

“If that makes you feel better.” She glances back at the pot, turns off the water. “You only want it filled like halfway or the boiling water will jump out when you put the noodles in.”

“Insubordinate.”

“…sure.” Ariadne looks around as she lifts the pot of water onto the stove. “Do you have salt? Olive oil?”

Zia huffs, “Of course I have salt.” She turns towards the kitchen table, grabbing a shaker. “Here we go.” She tosses it, under hand.

“Woah!” Ariadne scrambles to catch it. “You could have just walked the two feet to hand it to me.”

“You’re the sous chef. Technically I shouldn’t even be in here.”

Ariadne stares at her.

Zia stares back.

“J–just… knock it off already and get over here.”She presses the shaker into Zia’s hand. “Just add some salt to the water. It – it helps the taste.”

“How?”

“It just does okay?”

Zia sighs theatrically, shaking salt into the pot of water. “Fine, fine. Now what?”

Ariadne claps the lid on, starts the burner. “Now we wait for it to boil.” She glances around the kitchen. “You bought tomato sauce, right?”

Zia frowns, tilting her head. “What do you mean ‘bought?’” She laughs, shaking her head. “Sweetheart, it’s supposed to come with the pasta. It’s right on the box.”

Ariadne bites her lip, holding her breath. Lets it out. “Did… did you see any in that little tiny box.”

Zia stares back at her.

“Oh lord.” Ariadne stares at the ceiling. “Okay. What about olive oil?”

“Honestly, Ari dear, I’m beginning to think you're just making things up.”

“What– No, I–I–I–” Ariadne sputters, going bug-eyed. “Olive oil is a real thing! Jesus christ, Zia! Do you _at least_ have garlic powder?”

“Well, obviously.” She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “I need something to put on the pizza.”

Ariadne sags, “Oh thank god.” She presses a hand to her forehead. “My head is s–still killing me.”

A look of dawning comprehension crests over Zia’s face. “Oh! I completely forgot about your concussion. Oh, my poor handmaiden.” She sweeps up Ariadne in an a hug, patting the back of her head. “You go lay back down, I’ll finish up here.”

“Absolutely not.”


End file.
